You Could Be A Hero
by MidniteDancer
Summary: No one sits with him, he doesn't fit in, but we feel like we do when we make fun of him. Cuz you want to belong, do you go alone, cuz his pain is the price paid for you to belong.  Based off of a youtube video, link given. AU, human names used, suicide.


-_No one sits with him, he doesn't fit in, but we feel like we do when we make fun of him. Cuz you want to belong, do you go alone, cuz his pain is the price paid for you to belong.-_

Yao sat at his table, munching on rice as his eyes strayed to a lone figure at a table at the end of the room. _He always sits alone. I wonder if he's as bad as people say…._ "He's such a freak." He turned to the Lithuanian who sat with him, "Why does he even bother coming here anymore? He would be just as happy going to cyber school. Makes him leave us alone too."

"And, like, why is he always asking people to 'become one' with him?" The blonde beside Toris complained, "It's, like, creepy as hell!"

"Maybe," Yao mused, "That's the only way he can interact with people, aru."

The bespecled man who also sat with them snorted, "You give him too much credit Yao. He loves tormenting people. Because of his 'advances', you could call them, Raivis had to transfer schools."

Yao rolled his eyes, "_I_ frightened Raivis."

Feliks stared at him with piercing green eyes, "Are you defending the creepy bastard?"

Guilt twisted Yao's gut for an instant. _Yes_. "No, I'm simply making an observation, aru." He took another bite of rice.

"Good 'cuz if you did I could, like, never talk to you again," he flipped his hair.

"He has a point, Yao," Toris agreed, "People hate him. I know you're nice but don't get mixed up in all of that."

Yao nodded vaguely as his eyes strayed back to the lone figure. He was tall with tan sandy hair. He always wore his beige coat and a pale pink scarf. People said that back in Russia they'd tried to hang him but, because he practiced the dark arts, he survived and now has the rope scar around his neck. Ivan, that's his name. He was tall and liked getting close to people so he tended to loom. Yao's been watching him for months now and, while his tendencies may be slightly… unorthodox, he hadn't seen any reason to be truly fearful of the guy. "He's so quiet, aru…"

"It's the quiet ones you need to be afraid of," Eduard explained, "The tragedy at Columbine was committed by two quiet students."

Yao felt himself go cold. Before he could respond the bell rang. He watched as Ivan left, in an empty bubble created by students. The Russian waved at another student. The only response he got was a whimper and an escape. He went to his locker.

Yao didn't know he was moving towards him until he entered the bubble, the almost cursed space made by students only entered with the intent to torment. Yao steeled himself against the stares and kept moving.

Purple eyes met amber, "Hello~ Is there something I can be helping you with?"

-_Heroes are made when you make a choice._-

Yao felt his face heat up but he willed it down, "You're in my science class with me, right aru? Would you like to work on the midterm project with me?"

Ivan stood stunned for a moment and a quiet fell over the people watching, it was as if no one had acted this civil towards him before. He smiled, a bright genuine smile, "Of course, da!"

Murmurs circled around them. _Let them talk, ignorant idiots. _"Good. I'll walk with you to the next class."

-_No one talks to her, she feels so alone. She's in too much pain to survive on her own. The hurt she can't handle overflows to a knife. She writes on her arm, wants to give up her life._-

Elizabetha sits in a bathroom stall, feet tucked up, staring at the familiar razor in her hand.

She was never a popular girl. Many considered her creepy and weird. They said she stalks other couples, specifically gay ones. She did watch them. She envied them. The love and strength of them. For years she wished she could feel affection like that, from anyone. With a father who ignores her and a mother who's dead only the stories are left to console her.

But it wasn't enough. The pills help take her away from the world of hurt, and the cuts help alleviate it.

She wasn't sure how or why it happened, but one day she took a look at herself in the mirror. She was ashy, her hair hung lank and there were dark circles under her eyes even if she slept much more now than usual. She looked at herself and was disgusted with what she saw. There was no way in hell people will trust her to care for others if she can't even care for herself.

-_Heros are made when you make a choice._-

When she threw out the pills she took up writing. Her stories and blogs have become quite popular. Her grades were rising and she looked healthier, but there was still one thing that held her back. An addiction she didn't even know she had. Today, though, she promised herself it would end completely. She dropped the thin bit of metal into the toilet and flushed.

While there was still some lingering anxiety, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She took a deep breath. It felt good to be free.

As she left her stall another girl was just entering the room. She was Asian, with long brown hair with pink flowers and a pink outfit to match. She was in her Creative Writing class. "Hey. Elizabetha, right?" She blinked and nodded, "I had to review your paper the other day, remember? You're an excellent writer, the observations you make are phenomenal." Her smile was contagious and soon Elizabetha found herself smiling back with a thanks. "You're eating lunch right now? Good! So am I. If you wait a moment we can walk back together." Her smile grew and she nodded again before going to wait outside. Yes, it most certainly felt good to be free.

-_No one talks to him about how he lives. He thinks that the choices he makes are just his. Doesn't know he's a leader with the way he behaves and others will follow the choices he's made._-

Matthew sat swinging his feet on the front step of his big brother's apartment building. Alfred was 19, a grown-up, and lived here now while going to college because Mommy and Daddy said he can't be in the house. He still didn't know why they didn't like his boyfriend, he was very nice.

He most certainly wasn't supposed to be here but he hasn't seen Alfred in a long time and Mommy and Daddy wouldn't take him. "Matthew?" He looks up to see his brother walk down the sidewalk with his bag.

Matthew jumped up, "AAALFREED!" and ran into his legs for a hug.

Alfred laughed and picked him up, "What are you doing here? Who brought you down?" He looked around.

Matthew shook his head with a smile, proud of himself, "I came all by myself! I missed you Alfred!" He hugged him again.

"And how did a nine year old manage to make their way down here all by themselves?"

Matthew drew back to give him a serious look, "Because I'm a big kid."

Alfred barely suppressed a laugh, "Of course you are," he placed the boy on the ground, "Come on in. We'll get something to eat and then I'll take you home." He looked slightly worried, "I home Mom and Dad aren't too worried. I'll call them first." Matthew nodded sagely while holding his brother's hand to make their way into the apartment.

When they were at the stairs a voice yelled out from behind them, "Yo, Al!" The brothers turned to see a man with spiked yellow hair and a frightening grin run up to them. Matthew hid behind Alfred's legs.

"Hey Mathis. What's up?"

"Hey me and the guys are getting trashed tonight, you up for it?"

-_He can do what he wants because it's his right. The choices he makes change a nine year old's life.-_

"Nah, I got a ton of shhh—stuff to get done for school. And then work tomorrow. Have fun without me."

"You sure?" He nodded. "Whatever man. See ya!" With a wave he ran off.

Alfred waved back as he went inside. Matthew tugged on his hand, "Alfred, why did he want to trash you?"

Alfred laughed, "No, he uh… Getting trashed is not a good thing to do."

Matthew tilted his head, "Even if it's with your friends?"

"Especially then. Besides, I need to keep up with school and work. I don't have time for stupid things." Matthew nodded again before being led up to his brother's apartment.

-_Little Mike D was the one in class who every day got bullied and harassed. This went on for years until he decided that never again would he shed another tear._-

Rodrich slammed his back against the door as he shut it. His cheek was still red from where he'd hit him and the tears streamed down his face.

Ever since he was caught kissing that guy people haven't left him alone. Everyday, lunch, going to and from the bus, there was someone with a comment or an offence. He'd thought, maybe perhaps, going into the high school would be better.

He was wrong.

The harassment got worse. The only place he found refuge was in the music room, by the piano. But they'd found him there, and they've begun waiting. They call him a faggot, they hit him, spit at him and say he could just kill himself, no one would care.

His father kept a .44 in his dresser drawer.

With trembling steps he made his way to his father's bed room, dropping his bag somewhere along the way. Out of it spewed dozens of sheets of handwritten music. Taunts and torments, abuses and assaults plagued his mind set on replay. Mechanically he withdrew the gun. He'd never held something like this before. Heavy, metal, lethal. He put the muzzle to the soft spot of his temple. Five words solidified his action, "I can't take life anymore."

He pulled the trigger.

There was a memorial service at the school for anyone who wished to come. Those who used to taunt the young musician were absent. Elizabetha, who knew Rodrich when they were younger, came and brought Mai and Kiku. Those two told their older brother, Yao, who decided to come. He brought Ivan. Ivan had told his old frenemy, Alfred, who was persuaded by his younger brother to go together. They greeted each other solemnly and sat together. Not far away was the most infamous gay couples of the school, Ludwig and Feliciano, and Lovino and Antonio, all of whom had ties to the Austrian.

The auditorium fell silent as the principal, Mr. Vargas, stood to speak. "Monday of this week saw the loss of a bright student and a brilliant musician. Rodrich Eldstein took his life after spending most of the previous two years being continually bullied and harassed for being gay. Yes, I knew of this, and I did everything in my power to stop it. But punishment requires evidence. I wish I could just say this was my fault or the bully's fault, because those problems are easily fixed.

"I wish I could, but I can't. It's common in our society now to look away from something unsavoury, something wrong. But denial will get us no where. This was all of our faults. If you saw anything that had happened to this young man over the course of two years, but chose to never intervene, it is your fault. If you avoided him because of a reputation, it is your fault. We all sat back and watched it happen. Thinking it's not our responsibility to solve a problem that isn't even about me. This is our problem! This is just one of the daily scenarios which we choose to compromise instead of doing the right thing. But if we make a choice to be the voice, for those who won't speak up for themselves, how many lives would be saved, changed, rearranged, for the better. Now it's our time to pick a side! So don't just keep walking by, not wanting to intervene, because you want to exist and never be seen! So let's wake up and change the world. Our time is now!"

-_You could be a hero, heroes do what's right. You could be a hero, you might save a life. You could be a hero, you could join the fight for what's right._-

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><p>Guess who's being lazy!<br>Yup. Nothing important being updated but I still felt like I should post _something_. I've been working on this for a while...  
>Based off of http: www. youtube. com/ watch?v= IZTnRS65SUc (take spaces out). Amazing song, check it out.


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